What care I, so they stand the same,—
Things of the heavenly mind,—
How long the power to give them name
Tarries yet behind?
Thus far to-day your favors reach,
O fair, appeasing presences!
Ye taught my lips a single speech,
And a thousand silences.
Space grants beyond his fated road
No inch to the god of day;
And copious language still bestowed
One word, no more, to say.